I was a fan of Law and Order, once upon a time when it was a compelling drama. Now it’s just a leftist mouthpiece, the writing is truly terrible and there’s no suspense. Oh- and the cheap shots, let’s not forget the cheap shots.
But I used to think, “Wouldn’t it be cool to be the dead body on one episode?” Apparently, I’m not alone. I’ve read it’s a fairly common fantasy, and as fantasies go, really harmless (unless you’re a method actor.) Now, I have a new “15 Minutes of Fame” fantasy: to be one of Barack Obama’s Sob Stories.
Natoma Canfield is just the latest prop. She’s not completely phony, but she’s not in the straits that BO said she was. She’s getting treatment for her cancer at an excellent facility (the Cleveland Clinic) and she is being assessed for assistance- as the spokewoman for the clinic says, she probably qualifies for Medicaid and assures us that the Cleveland Clinic will not put a lien on her home. But and however, that isn’t the way Prop-aganda works. Being a prop means never being calm and realistic if being “racked with worry” and otherwise distraught will get you sandwiched between the TOTUS Twins with The One. I mean, that other lady got a house out of her deal, didn’t she?
So, instead of being a dead body for a few minutes with no face time, I want to be a Health Care Prop. I think I have a shot. Yesterday I got a stomach virus that threatens my… financial stability. No, too vague.
…That imperils my livelihood! Nah, my livelihood is too bourgeois (I’m a soon to be retired stay-at-home mother. I sit around eating bon bons when I’m not enlisting my son in the Army.)
…That will destroy my marriage! No- that won’t work- Liberals want more single women out there looking for the Government to provide security.
…That will make me the object of ridicule and I’ll suffer the soft bigotry of Barferism. It’s a new victimism I just coined. Haven’t you noticed how people who are throwing up are universally avoided and disdained? Someone who vomits a lot can’t hold a job, either. It’s true.
That’s the ticket! At this point, I can puke on command, which should come in handy for the climactic point in the speech when everyone’s dabbing their eyes, I can just aim for the Messiah’s perfect pants crease and hurl. Only, I don’t need a virus for that. Just seeing the One at another rally in BF Ohio yammering about Health Care sends breakfast in full throttle reverse gear these days.